Little Sparrow
Summary: "Now up is down," was the last thing any of them heard before the rush of water drowned everything else out. Later, waking up on a random, deserted island, they almost immediately notice that something was not right with their Captain. Sparrington, Salazak, Willabeth, maybe others mentioned.
"Parlay?" A youth in his eighteenth summer of life offered uncertainly, looking up at the tall, broad shouldered man known as Admiral James L. Norrington who was holding a beautiful, deadly sword at his throat through the bushes. The lad had dark, dark, dark brown hair, tangled and weaved in braids and dreadlocks and a seemingly infinite number of trinkets and beads, held in some fashion of order by a rad, silk bandanna that went around his head. His skin was sunk kissed like only a sailor's could be, yet darker still, hinting at some native heritage. His features were still soft with youth and some manner of innocence, dark eyes lined with khol, face clean shaven or lacking hair still. His sprawled body was lean and showed only slight signs of muscles born from working on a ship. He had long legs and delicate seeming arms, a swan like neck and a trim waist, all of it hidden under a loose white shirt, a dark west, red sash around said trim waist and over it all a long, dark coat. The legs were dressed in formfitting, dark breeches and boots adorned dainty feet, seeming a little loose at the moment. For all the elegance of the young man's limbs, he was at the very least a head or so shorter than Norrington.
He was handsome. No, beautiful was a word more fitting his features, smooth and caressed by the sun, sea and wind. And yet there was a deadly kind of intelligence lurking in those dark, dark eyes, studying Norrington from head to toe and to doubt figuring out as many ways to get around him as were possible far faster than anyone would think it possible. There was a belt holding a pistol and a sword at his waist, a ... strangely familiar compass hanging from it on a string, an equally familiar tricone hat lying behind the sprawled youth.
Norrington's brain screeched to a halt. "S-Sparrow!?"
"What!?" The group behind the Navy man exclaimed and Jack automatically reached for his weapons, but James turned around to glare at them in warning, lowering but not putting away his own sword. The teen seemed to relax a little, very reluctantly, but he didn't draw his weapons. He did settle a hand on his gun, though, for protection.
"Arrrgh! Captain on the deck!" Mr Cotton's parrot screeched again, fluffing its wings, peering down at the ... different Jack Sparrow than he was used to seeing with bird like curiosity.
It should not have been as cute as it was that Sparrow was staring back at it and the monkey in much the same fashion, James chided himself. "Sparrow?" He called again to regain the younger man's attention and those unsettlingly intent eyes went back to him.
"Oh. So you were talking to me." His voice was surprisingly soft and not as deep as Norrington was used to. He heard his companions gasp in shock, obviously recognizing the strange youthful tone to their Captain's voice like he was. He hysterically, for one moment, wondered what their reaction will be when they see the pirate. He looked twenty years younger, for God's sake!
"Who else would I be talking to? Is there another Jack Sparrow I am not aware of?" He warily put his sword away, seeing no threat in the young man's - Sparrow's - face. Was that a blush he was seeing?
"Sorry. Not yet used to everyone calling me Sparrow quite yet. It's only been a month!" The youth protested, looking around and frowning at the beads he found lying on the ground between his feet. James recognized them as the ones that would have usually been braided into Sparrow's beard, had he had one at the moment. His hair was also a little shorter, Norrington noted as he watched the man tilt his head in confusion. "I'm surprised you even know it. I've been at sea for that whole month. But, I guess, rumors travel fast in the pirate society. Wouldn't be too impossible for you to have heard it. I'm still getting used to it, you know? Being called Jack Sparrow. It's almost as though as remembering they mean me when they call for the Captain!"
"Wot nonsense is he blabberin' 'bout!?" Barbossa called from somewhere behind James as Jack the monkey skittered down to sit in front of Sparrow, baring his teeth at him. To Norrington's further surprise, the pirate just smiled and reached over to scratch the chimp's head. The monkey fairly gawked at the young man, even as he began rubbing his head pleasantly against skillful fingers, still bejeweled like before. Whatever had affected Sparrow physically and mentally, his clothing had not been affected except those beads from his beard.
"Aren't you a handsome fellow?" He grinned at the monkey and James was dumbfounded to see all of his teeth were white. There's a surprise! And he also had noticed how the impossibly drunken drawl Sparrow talked with even when he had not had rum in the Locker for a year was absent, Sparrow talking with a cultured, fully pronounced English dialect that very nearly had the proper British accent, too. He sounded like a highly educated man.
"What's going on over there?" An impatient Elizabeth demanded and James sighed, resisting the urge to rub his forehead. He could just feel the upcoming headache already. He blamed the eccentric pirate Captain for it.
"Why don't you see for yourself," he said, offering a helping hand to Jack. His monkey namesake had clambered upon his shoulder and was playing with some of his trinkets, the two for once content with each other. A first. Black eyes studied Norrington for a moment, seemingly searching for something in his face and green eyes only he could find before he accepted the hand with a minuscule smile that made his face even prettier. James pretended to not notice how he had grown surprising hot under his collar as he hauled the light man onto his feet, the pirate grabbing his hat, before guiding him into the line of sight of the rest of the Black Pearl's current crew.
More than one jaw dropped when they laid there eyes on the eighteen year old - apparently already Captain - Jack Sparrow.
"By the sea gods and the merciful Lord!" Joshamee Gibbs swore reverently, stepping closer, eyes wide with awe, fear, confusion, relief, fondness, weariness ... It was a long lost of the complicated mix of emotions the old sailor was currently feeling as he looked upon the youthful features of his young friend and Captain. Familiarly youthful features. "Jack?"
Black eyes studied him for a moment longer than they ever had, no matter how drunk, before recognition flashed through them and a genuine grin split the handsome face. "Why, if it isn't Mr Gibbs! How is the Navy treating you, my friend? Don't tell me that you're here to arrest me? Bad luck, that, arresting an innocent man on an unnamed, uncharted island."
"It really is you. But how?" The first mate asked with great confusion and a slightly panicked edge in his voice, still staring at the younger pirate.
"Hm? How what?" Jack seemed just as confused, but he wasn't paying much attention to the man or James or the group they were with, having turned his attention to the blue and yellow bird, offering his forearm for Mr Cotton's parrot. The animal went easily, already familiar with its Captain and this version of him held no malice, so it felt at ease with him. "I've heard of birds smart enough to talk, but I've only seen crows talking so far. You're a pretty one, you know?"
"Arrrgh! Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!" The parrot preened and Jack laughed, a sound none of them had heard so genuinely amused before. Sparrow appeared ... gentler, somehow. Not world gardened quite yet. It was as though he had went back in time.
"So it worked," they all nearly jumped out of their skins when the voodoo witch spoke up, whirling around to look at her in confusion. Jack, his gaze falling on the approaching Tia Dalma, practically lit up.
"Tia Dalma! You're out of your little shack! What a pleasant surprise," he walked up to her, swept her hand up and placed a gentlemanly but familiar kiss to her dark cheeks, the woman smiling fondly at him. "It feels like eons since we've last met. Don't worry, I'm keeping the Compass safe, as per our bargain. Captain Morgan had handed it down to me the second he realized he was dying." He seemed suddenly subdued, fingers gripping above mentioned navigation device tightly in one hand, as if for reassurance. "I've been keeping it safe since."
"I know ye 'ave, ma Witty Jack." Tia Dalma practically cooed, caressing the young man's cheek comfortingly. "Ya've been doin' a great job o' it. Tia not worried fer da Compass, though." At his confused glance, she elaborated with another question ... not. "'Ow are ye fearin', hm? Feelin' fine? No anxiety? No hallucinations?"
"What are you talking about?" Jack asked, blinking in confusion even as Cotton's parrot and Jack the monkey went back to their respectful masters, who were still too stunned for words. Well, Mr Cotton at least had an excuse! The rest should be well used to the craziness that followed Jack Sparrow around like a second shadow.
"Yes, what are you talking about, Tia Dalma?" Elizabeth, having snapped back to attention from where she had been distracted staring at the handsome young man who was apparently Jack Sparrow, demanded with a glare at the voodoo woman. "What have you been up to that you've not told us about?"
Jack surprised her by glaring at her from over Tia's shoulder. "Watch how you're talking to her, lass. Not only should you respect your elders, but do you have any idea whom you're talkin-"
"It be okay, Jack." The dark woman assured him, tugging his face back to face her. "Ye should know, too."
"Know what?" He and everyone else intoned together, confused and weary as to what sort of magical mischief might have Tia Dalma indulged in without telling them. The woman was dead serious, though, as she answered.
"Ye're not as old as ye think ye are, Jack Sparrow. Twenty long years 'ave passed an' den some since da time ye remember an' dem be long, painful, tryin' years." She began, her voice firm, making him listen without interrupting and demanding he accept it in stride. Sparrow remained surprisingly quiet, listening as she asked without words. The truth in her voice resonated through his soul. He wanted to understand, so he listened. "Yer soul grew weary from betrayals, from friends an' de like, but ye managed ta go on. But den a debt 'ad ta be repaid, ya failed ta escape an' ye were dragged t' da Locker by de Kraken." Jack gasped, eyes widening in surprise and fear but Tia Dalma continued before he could panic. "But we set off on a journey ta get ye back, travelin' to Workd's End an' beyon'. We found ye, a year later, an' de Locker 'as taken its toil on ya. Ye were hallucinatin' an' couldn't trust an'one. Ye were fallin' apart while tryin' ta hide it from everyone. But Tia saw and Tia knew she'd 'ave ta do somethin'. So I locked away the Jack Sparrow of de twenty years passed an' gave 'im time fer healin'. Ma spell resulted in ye. It were da only way to preserve yer soul, mind, sanity an' even body. Ye were dead fer a year." She stressed, sounding stressed as she said it, genuine affection for the boy before her obvious in her voice. "Da world not yet be ready ta lose ye, Witty Jack. Tia not yet ready ta lose ya."
"I understand." Jack replied after a long moment that everyone used to let it all sink in. They knew, without a doubt, that it was their fault that Jack had cracked. He had been fighting for his life and had lived through three betrayals in a single day, all by people he had trusted. First Will, then Norrington and then Elizabeth, who actually managed to lead him to his death. A year worth of torture would drive anyone crazy. It was surprising enough that Jack had not fully succumbed to madness by the time they had reached him. But, then again, he was Captain Jack Sparrow.
Will blinked, stalking up to the four, incredulous. "Just like that? You won't say anything? Won't complain that she experimented on you without warning or asking you about it? Are you daft, Jack?! She could have killed you!" He threw his hands up in the air, too caught up in his emotions to notice how Jack inched closer to Norrington.
"Who are you?" The Black Pearl's de-aged Captain asked curiously, studying William's features and probably what he can tell about the man's personality with that uncanny perception of his. Will blinked, startled.
"You ... you don't know me?"
"Should I?" Jack asked in return, wondering at the half hurt, half shocked tone in the now older man's voice. "If so, I'm sorry. It's apparently beyond me, now."
"I'm your friend." Turner said softly, actually hurt at being so easily. "William Turner. You knew my father once."
"I did?"
"Bootstrap Bill Turner, or also William. You sailed together on your ship." Will tried again, as though that might jog Sparrow's memory. Yet there was no recognition in the teen's eyes, only a genuine apology that said it all. Will kind of just ... stared and stepped back, as though backing away would make it less true.
"So ... You don't remember any of us?" Elizabeth, also not left unaffected by this fact, asked, as if to make certain. Jack looked them all over, studying each face before he just shook his head.
"Sorry, but I'm only familiar with Mr Gibbs and Tia Dalma. But I knew them since I was a lad of twelve. The rest of you ... I must have met you all later." He shrugged, fingers twitching on his hat, uncomfortable with being with so many strangers that now knew more about his life than he did. It was as unsettling for him as it was for them.
Barbossa spewed curses that could make a Tortuga whore blush. "Wot the bloody hell are we ta do with 'im now?! 'E's useless to us now! The Brethren Court 'as been called upon and one of the Pirate Lords don't know his head from 'is arse! He doesn't even know wot his Piece of Eight is! He's not even a Pirate Lord anymore"
"Oy! You with the ugly beard!" Said offended Pirate Lord protested vehemently, glaring into Hector's ice blue eyes with disdain. "I'll have you know I am indeed a Pirate Lord! Have been for the past three weeks, muchas gracias, mi fregón amigo. Don't make assumptions just because I'm suddenly de-aged or something!" He huffed, crossing his arms. "Tu eres muy estúpido y tapado, craso, viejo el hijo de perra!"
Barbossa stared at him uncomprehendingly while the rest were wondering just what the hell he had said. "Since when do you speak Spanish, Sparrow?"
The teen blushed again, yet stubbornly kept glaring at Barbossa. "Since Armando found it sexy for me to speak in his native language and it always promised a good time or guaranteed whatever I wanted."
The ex Commodore by his side blushed to the roots of his hair, as did a few others in the group. Tai Hung and his men, though, just grinned lecherously at the pretty boy. Theodore Groves cleared his throat, his blush disappearing under his cravat while Philip Gillete seemed to be counting his prayers to not resemble a tomato. Too late for that. "Captain Sparrow, don't you think we should search for your ship?"
"Search?" The dreadlocked male tilted his head in confusion, his trinkets tinkling in the air. The Lieutenant shifted uneasily.
"Um, yes. We were kind of just washed out by the sea on a nearby beach. We've been searching for you and your vessel for a good hour, sir. Do you know where it is?"
"Even if 'e didn't, that Compass of his will." Barbossa harrumphed, grateful for the chance to fight down his own blush into submission. He should have known better than to ask. Damn Sparrow! "You sure you're a Pirate Lord, boyo?"
"You can ask the Keeper when we return to the Cove." Jack told him snappishly and Elizabeth sighed.
"The ship, Jack?"
He turned a suspicious eyes on her next, scowl still in place. "Why should I sail with any of you? I only know and trust Tia Dalma and Mr Gibbs, although you look familiar, mate." Jack said as he rounded on Norrington, looking him up and down. "Have we met before?"
"I don't think so, not until I nearly had you hanged in Port Royal four years ago." James said, arching an eyebrow when Jack grinned and snapped his fingers. It would seem that his hands were still as animated as ever.
"I know, now! You don't happen to be a Norrington, do you? In relation to one Admiral Lawrence Norrington? I swear, you look just like him."
Said man's son stared in surprise at the pirate Captain while Gibbs was doing a poor job in surpassing his smirk. "How do you know my father?" The rest were watching the exchange with interest, fairly staring at this point. Again.
Jack waved his question off, already turned in another direction. "Long story, mate. Maybe I'll tell you later. You said only my ship is here and we need to find it." Even with his back turned to them, Jack seemed to be able to sense Will and Elizabeth opening their mouths to answer and shushed them. "Quiet, I'm listening."
"That's quite enough," Gillete finally snapped, stalking up to the even more strangely acting pirate. "We are wasting time on some god forsaken island while you are listening? To what, if I may ask? Our sanity slowly dying? No need, I'll alert you when it's dead, if you're so interested."
"I said hush," Sparrow impatiently shoved the man away, seemingly straining his ears for a sound only he could hear.
"Jus' use da Compass!" Marty whined from Mr Cotton's side, but Jack's head had already snapped up like a hunting dog's ears on a hunch. He grinned and took off, hollering behind to them to follow him.
Having no choice, they did.